Fathers & Forgiveness
by always-been-a-pirate
Summary: A three part ficlet about Killian, his son, and Papa Jones.
1. Chapter 1

Pausing outside the diner, Killian felt his shoes quickly adhere themselves to the sidewalk. He narrowed his stare at the blinds slightly covering the window offering a view inside. He'd promised Killian he'd be there at nine sharp - and _dammit_ , he was. Part of him wished the man hadn't showed. Part of him wanted to turn around and head back up the street while trying to forget that this meeting had ever been scheduled. He was mentally running through the reasons why he wasn't in the process of erasing his steps on the concrete when he felt a firm, small hand grab his. _Ah_ , yes - _that_ was why he was here.

His own son was the reason he'd agreed to face his own father - ironic as _that_ was.

"Is he here yet, papa?"

Liam was clutching his hand tight as he stretched on his toes, trying to get a glimpse through the glass that was still a bit too high. Killian sighed heavily, looking down at his son with furrowed eyebrows and a careful nod.

He allowed his mind to drift back to the conversation they'd had in the front yard not long ago. Well, it was more of an argument on Killian's part. It had been unexpected and unwanted in so many ways, feelings that caused him to act a bit impulsively. He felt his blood grow hot at the memory.

* * *

 _"You shouldn't be here."_

 _He'd stormed outside and down the steps to the fence the moment he saw him approaching. Part of him was furious that he'd think he could intrude on this life Killian had rebuilt - the one filled with Emma and Liam and this constant happiness. Another part of him was devastated that after all these years, anger was the only emotion he had toward the only family member he had left._

 _"I know," his father admitted, swallowing hard as he stood at the gate. "But I just want to talk."_

 _"I'm sure you do," Killian shot back, his stance firm and his arms crossed over his chest. "But why in the bloody hell would you think I want to listen?"_

 _His father shuffled his feet, scratching behind his ear anxiously. Of course this man had passed along his nervous tick to him - Killian had passed it onto his own little Liam as well. Thunder filled his father's gaze, a storm of apologies simmering under a tortured expression. His mouth opened as his voice eluded him, a frustrated gasp the only sound wearing on the tension between them._

 _"Killian, I just-"_

 _"You know what? No. Stop."_

 _"Son…."_

 _"Don't you dare try that with me," Killian growled, gritting his teeth. "I am not your son. I'm not your anything. You have no business being here so leave. That's what you're good at, right?"_

 _"Killian, please-"_

 _"No! You left us! You didn't care about me or Liam or anything and there's nothing you can say-"_

 _"I did it for you - for both of you," his father replied, his own voice rising desperately. "I had to leave in order to save you and your brother…."_

 _Killian froze, his eyes wide and his breath hitching hard in his throat at the explanation. He watched his father fight the emotion in the air, his composure crumbling as he ran his hands over his face. As much as he wanted the man to hurt and suffer the way he had as a young orphaned boy, he felt his heart crack at this sight of this person who still clearly loved him feeling so lost._

 _But it wasn't enough. Not even close._

 _"You didn't save us," he deadpanned, his tone defensive. "You destroyed us."_

 _He glared at the man who abandoned him long ago before he turned on his heel and headed back inside. Slamming the door and jamming the lock down, he slumped against the door. Emma peeked around the corner from the kitchen, leaning in the doorway with sympathetic eyes. He shook his head, running a frustrated hand through his hair as he stared at the floor. Turnabout was fair play - so why did it hurt so damn much?_

 _"Papa?"_

 _Liam's voice broke in, causing him to jump and straighten his posture quickly. He cleared his throat and dug deep for some semblance of a smile as he watched the boy plod down the staircase. Liam rubbed his eyes, his hair sticking up in several directions as his little red socked feet landed on the bottom step._

 _"Hey buddy," he tried, sighing with relief. "You okay?"_

 _"I think so. I heard people outside. Is someone here?"_

 _Liam's inquiry was honest, his eyes a kind and concerned light blue. His little hand held on the railing as he anticipated his father's response. He was waiting for Killian to assure him that everything was alright - to tell him it would be okay. He'd always been good at that._

 _"Fear not, little man," he told him, moving toward the stairs to lift the boy into his arms. "It's just us. I got ya. I'm here, son."_

* * *

He _meant_ that. He'd always be there for Liam, to soothe his nightmares and keep him safe the way his father never had with him. He wouldn't be like his dad. Most importantly, he would keep Liam away from his estranged grandfather. His little boy didn't deserve such disappointment. _  
_

He tried to keep that in mind constantly, even when Liam selected bedtime stories all week that his father had once shared with him. Killian knew he had to keep his family's best interest at heart - and that included his father's continued absence. It had been a determined plan, one that would eliminate any chance of his that man carving out a place in their lives - well, until Liam's birthday anyway.

* * *

 _"Swan, what's this?"_

 _He lifted a small parchment bag that had been tied off with blue ribbon, a card attached to the side. Normally, it would have been rational question, but today his curiosity was slightly off given the fact that their living room was packed with presents for their little boy's party. This one, however, just stood out - it called to him for some reason and he had to know why._

 _"Oh," she replied, cautious and almost guiltily. "It was dropped off a few hours ago."  
_

 _"Dropped off….by someone?"  
_

 _She nodded, a glint of something sad in the expression she currently possessed. An incredulous gasp left his lips as he realized he didn't need her answer. He knew exactly who it was from._

 _"He wanted me to ask you if it was okay," she defended, moving toward him and unfastening the tie at the top of the bag. "It was supposed to be yours - and he thought Liam might like to have something of his father's from when he was younger."_

 _Emma reached inside to retrieve the contents and Killian fought his curiosity. Her fingers were careful as she maneuvered it into view - a small wooden sailboat constructed with twine and sticks as well as a tiny canvas sail. It had clearly been made with much attention and love, an observation that made his stomach turn._

 _"Papa," Liam's voice came from behind him. "What's this word? G-r-a-n-d-p…."  
_

 _His now five year old son was holding up the card that had been paired with the gift, pointing to the word labeling who it was from. The questioning blue of Liam's eyes wouldn't allow him to lie. He couldn't avoid the topic any longer, even if all he wanted to do was protect his boy from the man who'd caused nothing but damage in the past._

 _"It says 'grandpa'," he said quietly, gripping the paper firmly. "Grandpa Jones."_

* * *

A week or so of constant questions from Liam had landed them here - a breakfast date with the man he'd _promised_ to keep away. His son tugged on his arm, a small smile stretching at the corners of his lips in a way Killian quickly fell victim to. Apparently, it was time - and he wasn't about to find a way to avoid it any longer. _  
_

"I bet he's sitting at the back," Liam decided, yanking on the door with every ounce of strength his little arms had. "Probably where _we_ usually sit."

"Maybe," Killian replied, his nerves taking over as he assisted his son in his strenuous task. "But we should probably-"

"Papa," Liam cut in, pointing to a nearby table and the man waiting there. "Is that _him_?"

Killian's eyes darted in that direction, his pulse pounding in his ears. His father was sitting anxiously, adjusting the popped collar of his black peacoat and tugging on the somewhat faded gray scarf around his neck. His hair was longer than KIllian remembered, falling sideways over his eyes in a way that resembled his own when it was grown out. He watched the man rub his hands together as he peered around the room, obviously searching for them. The moment their eyes locked, Killian took a steadying breath. His father appeared to notice and followed suite, his stare dropping to the boy that was still pondering the mysterious man at the table.

"Yeah," Killian confirmed, squeezing Liam's hand. "That's him."

He _expected_ more inquires. He _expected_ Liam to hold tight to his grip, waiting to be introduced. He _should_ have expected nothing - his brave little boy was never one for patience.

"Grandpa!"

Killian felt his heart and voice hit the floor simultaneously as his son bounded across the room toward his grandfather. The moment seemed to occur in slow motion, his son's little arms wrapping quickly around the neck of the man Killian had been hoping would disappear. He watched surprise fill his father's face, the man's body freezing solid for a moment as tears filled his dark eyes. Killian fought his own gaze from evolving into some emotion as he watched.

In a torturously slow manner, his father wrapped his embrace around the small boy, pulling him onto his lap as he melted into the hug. It wasn't until Killian heard the subtle sound of two tears hitting the leather of his own jacket that he recognized just how hard he was being hit by the scene in front of him.

Despite the way his father had once left him behind and despite the resolution he'd made to not let this man back in, here they were - and this man loved his grandson with _every_ ounce of the heart he obviously still had. Killian was trying to settle with the fact that there was no way life would continue without his father as part of their world when his dad's loving gaze moved back up to find his. His stare was honest and grateful, the corner of his mouth turning up into a grin and he hugged the boy a _little_ harder.

Killian didn't miss what was truly happening in that unexpected instance. His father loved Liam - the protective embrace and look of renewed hope were proof of that. But the way his expression held such promise and infinite _joy_ told Killian that he was making up for lost time - he was pouring out what he'd been unable to give his own son all those years ago. Swiping at the tears he didn't want to recognize on his cheeks, Killian found himself unable to deny the gasp of a laugh leaving his throat.

He didn't know about second chances. He didn't want to make plans or accept apologies. He couldn't think about what this whole thing meant or what would happen now, but as he looked on, KIllian felt a wall drop - one that suggested an opportunity for his son and his father to know one another.

"I'm glad I finally got to see you, grandpa," Liam told the man, pulling back with a smile.

"Yeah, I'm….I'm sure glad for that too, my boy."

The look on his father's face wasn't one Killian had seen in decades - in fact, it was a whole new type of elated that perhaps he _had_ never seen before. Something about that knowledge made him want to allow the man to have that happiness. He _wanted_ to give him that - even though his father had given him little in return.

"Papa," Liam began, turning to face his own dad. "Can we have breakfast now? With pop-pop?"

Killian had to smirk at his son's affectionate term, but even more so at the confused expression the newly established Grandpa Jones was exhibiting. He was unable to stifle the chuckle building in his chest as he moved toward the table.

"You'll have to forgive that little endearment," KIllian explained nervously, shrugging as he finally addressed his father's presence. "That's what he calls Emma's dad. We can workshop a better name for you I suppose."

"Oh - it's…it's okay," his father smiled softly, adjusting his hold on the boy as Liam rested his head on his shoulder. "I don't mind. In fact - I think it's…perfect."

"But _wait_ ," Liam said suddenly, his eyes moving between the two men. "Grandpa, do you have a ship too?"

"I do," the eldest man nodded, tilting his head curiously at the boy. "Quite a lot like _your_ father's actually."

"So you're a captain _too_?"

"I….guess," he answered, looking up at Killian for approval. "Why do you ask, sailor?"

"Because then you can be _Captain_ Pop-Pop," Liam decided with a wide grin. "So it's different than what I call my other grandpa."

Killian felt a bit of jealousy swell in his shoulders, the idea of his little boy idolizing an additional pirate a thought he wasn't sure about _just_ yet. He opened his mouth to form a rebuttal, but stopped as he watched his father laugh and run a hand over Liam's wild mess of hair.

Killian tried to ignore the memory of his father doing that to _his_ unruly head when he was about Liam's age.

Maybe a battle over titles _wasn't_ necessary on a morning like this one. Maybe a ceasefire was in order - _even_ if it was just for a single breakfast date. Although as he watched his son and his father bond as if they were the only two people in the diner, he had to wonder if talk of a truce didn't _have_ to be just temporary.


	2. Chapter 2

Killian was torn somewhere between intrigued and his second cup of coffee as he watched the breakfast scene in front of him continue to evolve. On the walk to the diner that morning, he hadn't even planned on ordering - _hell_ , he had been trying to figure out how to avoid even a _single_ mug of whatever caffeine Granny had brewing on the menu that day. A few words, several honest glances from his son, and almost half a pint of syrup later - _well_ , a lot had changed.

He watched the pair of them with disbelief. Killian hadn't ever even entertained the idea of seeing his father again until a few months ago and the meetings they'd had prior to this one were either heated or oh _so_ cold. He'd never imagined he would be across the table from the man who'd left _him_ alone as a boy. He'd never dreamed his _own_ son would be so mesmerized by the circumstances - but he _was_. Yeah, that much was abundantly clear.

"See - _these_ are pancakes," Liam explained, his fingers already rather sticky. "Papa thinks they are too sweet, but I like them with lots of syrup like _this_."

Killian smirked, shaking his head at his son's narration. It was enough to gather his own father's attention, the newly claimed grandfather lifting his gaze carefully. He still looked a little insecure in his role and Killian nodded to assure him that he was surprisingly doing a fine job. The appreciative smile he received in returned shouldn't have made his heart swell like it did.

"Because the first thing _you_ need is more sugar, my boy," Killian groaned, raising an eyebrow at his little boy. "You better go wash up - look, there's Ruby. I bet she'd be willing to help you if you ask nicely."

"I'm _always_ a gentleman, papa," Liam reminded him, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah," Killian glared playfully. "I _know_. Now, go on-"

"I'm going, I'm going."

He allowed a laugh to leave his throat at the way Liam skipped toward Ruby with his messy hands. She gave him an endearing grin before glancing up at Killian with amusement, nodding toward the washroom so the boy would follow her. Liam glanced back at the table quickly, the hint of a successful smile quickly paired with deep dimples.

 _Good form, my boy_ , Killian thought as he watched them go.

"He looks like him."

He'd been nervous momentarily - the instant he realized they were alone, he wondered what his father would have to say. He didn't expect _that_ line though. Not at _all_.

"Aye," Killian said softly, trying not to think too hard about the past. "Fortunate kid, right?"

"You could say that," his father agreed, finally tearing his eyes away from the path Liam had followed. "But he's got a lot of you in him too, Killian. You and your brother always did look a lot alike."

Killian tried not to flinch at the sting of his words - it had been several decades, yes, but his older brother's passing still wasn't a topic he could easily discuss. He didn't prefer to journey down that part of memory lane - _even_ with his now present father available as a traveling companion.

"He's a good boy - smart and perceptive," his father commented, his elation that Killian had allowed this meeting still beaming. "Lot like you at that age."

"Yeah - at _that_ age," he replied curtly, trying not to offer up too much trust. "Things have changed a bit since me at five years old. That was a long time ago."

"I know."

A simmering silence developed between them, filling the air with a tension that threatened to snap. He watched his father try to arrange the right words, his mouth opening with intent but dropping closed shortly thereafter. Maybe there wasn't anything to be said. Maybe what was done was simply done and they didn't need to keep up this charade - the one he'd agreed to for Liam's sake. Forgiveness was still a foreign term, something he hadn't dared to think about until he'd seen his father so wrapped up in the love of his grandson. He still had _no_ idea what to do with that observation.

"Killian, f-for what it's worth or not," the man started nervously, his eyes a dark shade of guilt. "I'm sorry-"

"All clean, papa!"

Liam arrived back at his side, holding up his syrup-less hands in victory. Allowing himself to be ripped from the conversation he wasn't sure he wanted to have, Killian smiled down at his own little boy. Out of the corner of his stare, he watched his father shift in his seat.

Perhaps it was time to go-

"Papa, can Captain Pop-Pop come to the docks with us?"

Killian gripped the edge of the tabletop, his mind reeling at the question. He'd barely mustered enough courage and will to stagger into the diner for the first meal of the day with this man from his broken past. The docks were _their_ thing - his and little Liam's - but long ago, he'd shared that location many times with his own father. He tried not to recall the way they'd pointed out sailboats in the distance and how he'd climb atop his father's shoulders with those safe hands to guide him.

He tried not to remember the _waiting_ \- the hours of waiting he'd done that during that breezy dawn at a different port in a different time as his older brother held his hand tightly.

* * *

 _"Do you think he forgot, brother?"_

 _"Of course not," Liam had assured him. "He's just running late, Killian. He'll be here."_

 _He nodded, accepting his brother's decisive words as the truth. Their father was likely just sidetracked with something. He'd show soon. He always did._

 _"Maybe we ought to walk this way," Liam said, confusion in his expression. "Maybe he'll see us if we stand over there."_

 _Killian's feet followed his brother's, the pace a bit much for his little legs. His eyes scanned the horizon as they found a better spot to watch for him. As seagulls cawed overhead and his older brother rocked back and forth on his heels, it became clear that somehow this particular morning was going to be quite unfamiliar._

* * *

"Oh, that's okay, Liam," the eldest man said quickly, perhaps sensing the uncertainty. "I don't think today would be a good-"

"You can come if you'd like to."

The agreement fell from Killian's lips before he could stop it. His dad looked cautious, his eyes growing studious as he tried to decide if it really _was_ okay. The hopeful look on Liam's face seemed to be all the convincing he needed after a moment.

"I'd like that."

Killian sucked in a millionth shaky breath, standing to follow his son's almost gallop to the exit. Liam had paused on anxious feet, his knowledge of the door's weight obviously retained. He grinned at his young son and reached to lift him to the typical perch on his paternal shoulders. His heart had to flutter a bit at the way Liam rested his tiny hands and chin on the crown of his head, doing so predictably and without second thought. The trust his little boy had in him is always astounding. He'd come to _live_ for it. He would never lose the desire to _earn_ it.

He sensed a strange hesitation behind him and chanced a look back in curiosity. It was clear that something was causing the delay of his father following close behind and as his eyes zeroed in on the man's expression, he saw it. His father's eyes were hinged on the sight of his own son and Liam, some sort of admiration filling his features as he watched them engage in an act that was so regular.

No words had to be said. His father - the man he was convinced didn't give a second though to him after he ran off and the same man who he was sure was incapable of caring at all about his boys - was _proud_ of him. Killian knew such a thing shouldn't be as fulfilling as it definitely was.

"Dad," Killian said without thinking, his own gaze widening at the foreign word. "Are you….ready?"

His father blinked furiously, his eyelashes battling the wealth of tears begging to fall. He stood slowly with shaking knees as a most genuine smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. It was the sight of a man being given a chance - and Killian knew there was no _way_ this estranged man would let it slip by.

"Yeah I am," his father confirmed gently. " _More_ than you'll ever know."


	3. Chapter 3

It's a just over a week later when Killian is ripped from the throes of a pitch black nightmare, the kind he hasn't had in _years_. Gasping for breath, he jerked upright as his startled vision darted around the room. His forehead felt hot and his mind is reeled through a form of terror he'd all but forgotten. _It wasn't real_ , he reminded himself as he closed his eyes for composure. It's all in the past.

"Hey," Emma mumbled, rising in bed next to him with a sleepy yet surprised expression. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He exhaled hard, allowing his chest to rise and fall as it regained a rhythmic pattern. He hadn't meant to wake her. He couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been thrashing about, trying to fend off his exhausted demons.

"Yeah," he said softly, running a shaky hand through his hair. "Just a bad dream."

She rubbeed his arm as he slumped back against the headboard, opening his embrace so she could move closer to lay her head on his chest. She didn't seem to mind that his t-shirt was damp with fear. Emma had always been like that - never failing to be there for him no matter the less than desirable circumstances. _God_ , how he loved her for it.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He didn't - he wasn't sure what he'd say. The images in his tired brain replayed themselves, the words accompanying the devastating sights screaming at him.

 _Killian, I should have listened to you._

 _I'm just glad you survived._

 _I will follow you to the ends of the earth, brother._

 _They took my brother from me and now I'm going to take everything they've got._

Killian stared up at the ceiling for a moment, surrounding his nerves with Emma's comforting touch. He hadn't been haunted by that day for quite a while - especially now that his waking hours were filled with the boy carrying on his brother's name is a way that would have made his departed uncle proud. He had never given up missing his older brother, but hadn't missed him quite like _this_ in a very long time.

It didn't take him long to realize why. Not long at _all_.

" _Killian_ ," Emma all but whispered, kissing his chest and looking up at him. "How can I help?"

He smiled softly at her, forgetting his aching heart for a moment as he ran his fingers through the length of her wavy hair. She was so beautiful - and somehow, she _loved_ him. She'd _chosen_ him, even with all this baggage she knew he carried. As her restless green eyes warred with the storm in his blue ones, he knew she was very much aware of what had caused his somewhat violent waking.

"I think I just need some air," he decided, stroking her shoulder as if to ask for permission. "I'll be back, okay?"

She nodded, turning her head to lean against his hand as it grazed her jaw. He smirked at her sweet gesture, returning the affection by placing a gentle kiss on her lips and a second one on her forehead. Killian took a deep breath, allowing his cheek to brush her hair before he stretched to vacate the bed.

She tossed a pillow at him playfully, her attempt at drawing a smile from him successful as he pulled the fluffy quilt up around her. Emma laughed as he wrapped the covers tight around her in demonstration of his tuck in abilities. He'd gotten _quite_ good at that over the past five years - though it was usually their little Liam that benefited from his efforts.

"Take a sweater," she reminded him, burrowing under the sheets. "It's supposed to be cold out."

"As you wish, love."

He snagged his gray hoodie from the chair by the door, smiling at the fact that she knew where he was headed. Emma could always read him like an open book - a fact she liked to remind him of often.

* * *

 _"Killian, it's going to be okay."  
_

 _He'd been pacing the wood planks for the better part of an hour, the water splashing against the docks in succession with his pounding heart. They'd arrived early - something that was clearly a mistake as he now had a wealth of extra time to fret. It seemed stupid to be nervous, but somewhere in his mind. it was logical. He'd always be cautious about putting his family in situations such as this one._

 _They'd set up this little meeting at Emma's prompting. It wasn't surprising - Killian knew that his father wanted to meet the woman who'd brought him out of so many years of darkness, but there was no way that man was going to ask for such a thing._

 _Emma though - of course she would make that request. It was a reasonable one, yes, but it didn't make it any easier._

 _"Hey," she said suddenly, reaching out to stop his nervous walking by grasping his arm. "I know this whole thing has been hard, but he's your father….and he's important. I want to meet him, Killian - and not during the delivery of a secret birthday gift."  
_

 _Killian gasped softly, pausing for a moment before pulling her into his arms. Emma nuzzled his chest in a way he'd never get tired of. He should have known she'd make this easier - that woman had a way with calming the waves._

 _"Killian?"  
_

 _He froze for a moment, tightening his hug on Emma before pulling back to watch the man they'd been anticipating walk up the wooden deck in their direction. His father was dressed for the cool weather - a dark blue jacket and its popped collar pairing with a thick black scarf to fend off the dropping temperature. He'd allowed his hair to gather much more than length than it used to when Killian was little as it now curled back under his ear in a rather shaggy manner. He looked hesitant - almost as if he wasn't sure exactly how he fit into this life just yet. It was an odd contrast to the man Killian once knew. He felt his breath hitch a bit and Emma reached for his hand, squeezing it as she winked at him. God, that woman would surely be the death of him._

 _"Dad," he started, summoning bravery from anywhere he could find it. "I wanted to….uh, this is Emma - my wife."  
_

 _"Emma," the man repeated, offering a grin that closely resembled Killian's. "It's wonderful to meet you, lass."  
_

 _"Likewise," Emma replied, returning his smile. "I'm sorry it took so long."  
_

 _Killian held her hand tight as they all waited out the few awkward seconds of such a moment, something Emma was extremely quick to remedy._

 _"Well, now that you're here," she continued, peeking up at Killian teasingly. "I have so many questions for you."  
_

 _"Oh," he said shakily, his eyes darting from her to Killian in panic. "Well, I don't-"  
_

 _"Has your son always been such an annoying early riser? Oh - and has he always been such an obsessive bookworm? I mean there is absolutely no space left on the shelves in the living room."  
_

 _Killian felt his heart flutter as he scowled playfully at her before looking back at his father. The man blinked rapidly and looked to his son with an incredulous expression. It took only seconds for a light laughter to fill the space between the three of them. Killian's eyes fell to his wife with all the appreciation he could fit into a single look._

 _"I must say he only had a fraction of the habits you're describing from what I remember from….his youth," his father said cautiously, trying to skirt around his abandonment and shame. "But I suppose if those are his two biggest faults - well, then I'm….proud of the man he became on his own."  
_

 _Killian felt pounding heart leap in his chest, his father's approval radiating as his veins pulsed with pride. Emma peeked sideways at him, pressing her lips into a chaste smile as she stroked his hand with her thumb._

 _"But if you'd like to hear about his irrational fear of the Kraken when he was about your little boy's age," his father continued, raising an eyebrow in a typical Jones fashion. "Then I'd be happy to offer up a tale or two on that."  
_

 _"Whoa, wait a minute-"  
_

 _"Hey - shut up, you," Emma laughed, slapping Killian's chest as she cut off his rebuttal. "This sounds like something I've gotta hear - preferably over some hot chocolate."  
_

 _Killian shook his head with a chuckle, nodding toward the diner in a manner that caused them both to follow. He held tight to her hand, listening intently as she assisted his father in warming up to this other part of their world. There was something to be said for two of the cornerstones of his life colliding so unexpectedly, but even more to be said for the fact that they were fusing so perfectly._

 _Maybe this would work after all. Maybe they could all fit together somehow._

* * *

He pulled the door closed quietly with a sigh as set out to procure his ability to sleep again. Stumbling slightly, he noticed an extra quilt laying on the floor, folded nicely and suitable for the impending weather. It was a spare that Ruby's grandmother had made recently - one that she'd left for Killian with a note saying it would be perfect the cool evenings at sea.

He kept the Jolly Roger fairly close to the solid land surrounding Storybrooke nowadays, mostly for the sake of his five year old first mate. That change in his set course made him think the thoughtful product of Granny's knitting wasn't meant for him, but perhaps for a _different_ captain.

Killian dropped himself to the wood deck of their front porch, the subtle wind blowing across the yard as he stationed his body for brooding. He placed the thick blanket on the surface beside him as he pondered his next move. It came in the form of a deep breath as he found himself rather glad he'd snagged his flask from his jacket pocket.

He didn't drink much anymore - he didn't _need_ to. The happiness his new life was spun around didn't require the constant drowning in libations. The coolness of the container under his fingertips was familiar as he tried to forget the dream - or _nightmare_ \- that has torn him from a peaceful sleep beside his wife. That woman was and had always been _far_ better company than his demons.

Killian tried not to entertain the thought of allowing the dwindling dark hours to haunt him, but the way his heart had been thumping post waking was making it difficult. His brother was always somewhere near the surface of his mind, but it hadn't taken Killian long to realize that it was the recent return of the eldest Jones man that had his head spinning with less than pleasant memories.

His spiraling was interrupted after a moment by the buzzing of his phone. He felt the startling vibration in his pocket and reached for the device quickly, fairly sure he knew who was light up the screen with an endearing text message.

 _ **Emma: This bed is too big for just me - and cold. Very cold.**_

He smirked to himself, flattered at the idea of her missing him after only a short time away. His fingers hovered over the keys as he pondered the walk he was about to take and a response that would hold the promise he always liked to give his wife. He'd barely started to reply when her words filled the screen again.

 ** _Emma: Just like it is out there I presume. Take your coat and stay out of the water, Mr. Jones. Tell your father I say hello._**

 _Of course_ , he sighed happily. He'd never be able to hide a _thing_ from that woman.

 ** _Killian: Be back shortly to warm you up, darling. I love you._**

 ** _Emma: I love you too, Killian._**

He trudged down the steps, fending off the fatigue he'd surely feel in the morning as he headed up the road in the direction of the docks. A slight breeze ruffled his hair with a gentle mist from the nearby harbor. He smiled to himself, glad again that their home had been built close to the water. Killian was a faithful visitor of the docks - and even more so since a certain sailor had reentered his world.

His feet met the wood of the walkway as he looked out over the calm and shallow bay. The black of the sky painted a serene picture, one that was littered with dim light from a few lanterns. He narrowed his eyes at the faint sound of a harmonica coming from a nearby ship. He walked almost automatically, knowing exactly who was making such an unfamiliar noise.

"Dad?"

He'd barely rounded the back of the boat when the melody stopped and he met the sorrowful gaze of the man who found his way back to him. The man's expression was full of surprise - but it was of the pleasant variety. Killian felt his heart swell slightly as he took it as an invitation to linger.

" _Killian_ ," his father said softly, a smile appearing but fading fast. "What are you…I mean, is everything okay? It's late-"

"Yeah, I, _uh_ ….I know," Killian replied, shaking his head as he held up the quilt. "It's just that I wanted to see if….well, _we_ want to give you…it's cold out-"

"Oh - yeah, I guess it is," his father nodded, clearly a bit flattered. "But you didn't have to-"

"It's no trouble," Killian assured him, placing the blanket on the table just to his right. "Ruby - the girl from the diner - her grandmother made it and we just…I just….well, _I_ thought you might need it."

He watched the man standing, reaching to brush the fabric of the gift with a smirk. Killian noted the way gratitude filled the space between them - something that seemed to ease this persistent tension they'd had for weeks now.

"Thank you, son," he credited, a hopeful glint in his eyes as he gestured toward an adjacent chair. "Would you like to…I mean, do you need to get back? That girl of yours seems the type to be concerned about you keeping odd hours."

"Actually, Emma said to tell you hello," Killian replied, sitting carefully. "I think she knew I was coming down here before I did."

His father chuckled in fondness, tugging a beat up flask from his jacket pocket and offering it thoughtfully. Killian shook his head with a smirk as he reached for and held up his own. _Like father, like son_ , he thought silently.

"So," Killian breathed, raising an eyebrow. "The harmonica, huh?"

"Yeah," his father grinned, shrugging a shoulder. "Picked it up a few years back."

"A little different than the piano," Killian commented. "Or was it the organ?"

"That's the one," he confirmed, laughing softly. "But it's been ages since that - a ship's not the ideal place for such a hobby. Need a bit more space and stability to keep an instrument like that one."

"Yeah, a ship's not exactly a home."

The words radiated in Killian's mind the moment he said them. The voiced opinion was one he'd developed not long ago and the look his father's face quickly took on told him the man agreed.

"Are you-" Killian started, swallowing hard. "-planning on making it yours _here_? I mean…are you thinking you might stay? For a while?"

"Well," his father hesitated, his eyebrows knit together. "I would like to."

It was something Killian had wished to hear long before this moment. He'd always wanted his father to come back - to choose to _stay_. Something about the fact that they were finally literally _and_ figuratively in the same boat gave him hope.

"I think Liam will be happy to hear that," Killian told him, trying to hide his own opinion. "He's been wanting to see you."

"Oh, _uh_ ," his father stammered, his shoulder lifting a bit. "Well, I'd like that - and maybe to see Emma too? I'd love to spend some time with them…if you are okay with it, son."

"Yeah," Killian nodded as he decided to take a brave leap. "I think we'd _all_ love that."

They shared a look that hadn't engaged in many times, but it was one Killian had learned to interpret quickly during moments like this one - moments where a father was truly proud of the man his son had become. It was approval he didn't _need_ , but the kind he could help but be elated to have.

"Maybe we could go for breakfast soon," his father said after a moment. "You and me and Liam? I just…I'd _like_ to be around - be a part of his life. That is, if you're open to it?"

He should have thought twice. He _should_ have debated it a bit more. This man didn't have a sufficient track record when it came to sticking around, but the tenderness of the moment was something he didn't _want_ to fight. He was _tired_ of fighting.

"Okay," Killian agreed, his eyes forgiving and his heart full. " I think that's a great idea, _dad_."

It was only after his father tilted his own flask toward Killian's in appreciation and truce that he realized the word he'd just used wasn't all _that_ out of place anymore.


End file.
